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carolmunson · 1 year

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is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x thick!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #pbv!steve #steve harrington fluff

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loveharlow · 3 months

Text

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally.

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they��re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped.

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’.

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight.

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter.

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued.

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice.

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him.

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat.

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range.

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly.

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house.

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat.

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior.

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled.

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself.

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement.

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook.

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered.

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall.

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke.

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum.

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John.

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’.

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.”

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort.

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father.

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however.

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'.

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.”

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly.

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad.

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!”

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.”

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you.

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you’d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

“NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”.

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you.

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open.

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde.

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried.

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool.

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up.

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed.

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #SVN #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #obx netflix #obx x reader

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clockwayswrites · 8 months

Text

Neon Adjuration - Start

The bike sputtered to death on a cliché middle of nowhere American road. It might have well been straight out of a movie set with the rows of corn, gold light, and nothing else around for miles.

Jason was less than impressed.

After nearly an hour of pushing his bike and with the idyllic light quickly fading he was even less impressed. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have options. His insurance came with roadside assistance (he thought), he could give in and call a sibling to steal the Batplane and come get him, or a corn field wasn’t the worst place he’d ever slept. He had options, just none of them were really appealing.

Recognizing that the feeling was stupid didn’t make calling for help feel any less like giving up.

The corn field had to have rodents. As he had pushed his bike, they had turned from carefully manicured rows into wild, unmanaged looking things. Jason had enough sharing a bed space with rodents as a street kid to want to do it again. Jason was probably about ten minutes away from giving in and calling Dick when he saw the glow.

It was neon salvation looming out of the oppressive darkness.

The cyan light spread the furthest, but Jason could also catch magenta from where the sign was peering around the edge of what must be the shop the sign was connected too. The cast of the cyan light made the corn feel otherworldly, and Jason pushed his bike slightly faster. More of the sign was revealed with each step, carefully crafted letter by carefully crafted letter.

Jason nearly sagged in relief. Not only was it finally, blessedly civilization, but it was a mechanics shop. ‘Fix-it Freddy’s’, the sign cheerfully proclaimed. It sat next to just the sort of building that looked like it might hold up to the claim. The base structure was probably from the late 40’s, that magical time of growth when the war and dust had both faded, but it had obviously been altered and changed and repainted hundreds of times. Just from the light of the neon and the one, lonely white flood light above the large roll up door Jason could see a myriad of colors. The current one seemed to be an already fading cyan to match the sign.

Praying that shop either had someone still working or cheap security and a lock he could jimmy, Jason leaned his bike against his tired leg and rang the bell between the roll up door and the man door. His finger was barely off the buzzer before the aluminum panels shuddered and groaned. Creaking with all of the years in it, the door rolled up.

Hanging onto the chain was, well, not exactly what Jason was expecting to find out in the corn fields. They were young, Jason’s or close enough. The black hair was wild, long in the middle and pushed around from a long day of working with engine grease and oil but shaved close on the sides. The way the neon light caught their eyes practically made them glow. Their smile was almost concernedly easy. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Jason said and then had to clear his throat and try again. “Yeah. I guess you’re Freddy?”

They laughed, tossing their head back. Magenta light brushed along the length of their throat. “Nah, Freddy’s been dead for nearly thirty years, not that it would stop him from working. I’m Danny, this is my place now. Why don’t you roll your bike in and we’ll take a look at it, okay stranger?”

“Jason,” he said reflexively.

“Jason,” Danny repeated with that same easy smile.

AN: Aaaaaaand Moody Monday check! (Can I get all the days of the week? Let's see! 2 down, 5 to go... fingers already taped together.)

Masterpost I no longer tag, visit the masterpost to subscribe!

#moody monday #for the hell of it #neon adjuration #dp x dc #dead on main

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bro-atz · 9 months

Text

knots

in which: your coworker recommends that you see a massage therapist for your many, many muscle aches, and you do just that with massage therapist choi san

pair: san/afab!reader

word count: 4k

content: smut, masseuse!au, table sex, massage, completely consensual!

apply for the permanent taglist here!

Thank god your thighs were fucked up. Actually, it sucks. Your thighs were eternally fucked according to every single doctor you’ve ever been to. They all said that you have incredibly large knots in your thighs and that you would need more than one session to bring your thighs back to normal. You didn’t really think about seeing a massage therapist until you threw your shoulder out working your day job like there was no tomorrow.

One of your coworkers from work always told you to see one of the massage therapists at the place that she goes to.

“They’re all really good! My go-to therapist is usually Yeosang, but Wooyoung filled in for him one day, and he did a good job as well. I’m telling you, they saved my life,” she explained to you while giving you their business card.

“Do they only have male massage therapists?” you asked, unsure if you would feel comfortable having a man massage you instead of a woman.

“They do... I think… I was the same way, too, but the person at the front desk recommended Yeosang for me because each massage therapist has different styles and pressures. Some of them can be really firm, but others have a light touch. I usually need medium to firm to bounce back.”

You nodded, still hesitant about the place, but after you left work and stepped onto the sidewalk wrong and feeling a way of soreness and pain shoot through your calves and thighs, you decided that you would go to this place that your coworker told you about.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a cute receptionist who looked like a massage therapist himself.

“Welcome to SPATZ. My name is Jongho. How can I help you today?”

“Uh…” you hesitated, unsure of how to go about asking for their services.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No…”

“Not a problem, we do take walk-ins. What kind of service are you looking for today?”

He opened his book and flipped through some pages while you thought about what parts of your body were in pain.

“Honestly, I have no idea. My doctors keep telling me about knots in my thighs, and today I threw my shoulder out at work… I guess my entire body?”

“And what kind of pressure do you prefer?” he asked without looking up from the book.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

The man finally looked up from the book. You shifted slightly as you felt his gaze burn a hole through you and then let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he opened up another book and jotted down some details.

“Name?”

“Y/N.”

“Insurance and ID, please,” he asked you as he held out his hand.

You handed the cards to him. He scanned them then returned them to you as he continued to scribble away in the smaller notebook.

“Shoulder… Thighs… Your calves are a little tense, too… And your back is definitely stiff,” Jongho said to himself, but you were still able to hear him slightly. He raised his voice as he addressed you, “Luckily, we have our most versatile therapist available at the moment. Since this is your first time, you get to test out our service for free, and when the session is over, we can discuss scheduling future visits. For now, if you could just fill out this paperwork and have a seat.”

He handed you a clipboard, which you took. You didn’t take long to fill out the paperwork, but before you could get up and hand the board back to the receptionist, the door to the inside of the place opened, revealing a man who seemed more equipped to be a sports therapist than the receptionist.

“Y/N?”

“Yes!”

“Come with me.”

The man disappeared through the door, and you quickly got up, returned the board to Jongho, and shuffled towards him until you were walking right behind him. He opened another door and gestured for you to go in. You did so and stood in the room awkwardly as he shut the door behind you two. There was a table in the middle of the room and towards one of the walls was a bunch of cabinets and a countertop with a various collection of oils and lotions lined up.

“You can put your bag on this chair and have a seat on the table,” he said with mild amusement upon seeing your timidness.

You nodded and did as he instructed. There was a rolling stool near the counter and cabinets that he sat on and rolled on so that he was right in front of you. The stool was significantly shorter than the table itself, so when he rolled over, his head was near your knees. You swallowed nervously and held your legs closer together as you looked at this massage therapist.

He was beautiful. He smiled at you softly, slightly exposing his dimples which you know would go deeper the moment he laughed. He eyes were sharp, but his eyebrows were even sharper— they were definitely not sisters; they were twins. The shape of his nose accentuated all the sharp lines on his face, and his plush lips truly added to his charm. You felt your face get warm. You silently thanked God that you wouldn’t have to look at his face while he worked on your knots since he would most likely have you be face down for the most part.

“My name is San, and I’m going to be your massage therapist today,” he introduced himself. “Before we get started, what kind of pressure are you looking for?”

“I really don’t know. This is my first time getting any sort of massage, so I have no idea what kind of pressure would be best for me,” you answered truthfully.

“Okay, so what we can do is start soft, then if you need me to go harder, I can.”

It was the way he phrased that sentiment that made you shift slightly, trying to calm yourself down.

“According to Jongho, you want to work on your shoulder, legs, and lower back, right?”

You nodded. San opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a sheet. He shook out the sheet and nodded his head, indicating that you should get off the table. You did so, and he covered the table with the sheet. Then, he said, “I’m going to step out of the room for a minute. Undress, get under the sheet, and lay face down. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Your eyes widened. Why did he need you to remove your clothes? Couldn’t he just work over your clothes? San seemed to read your mind as he clarified, “To work out the knots and give you the best effect, working with skin-to-skin contact will be best.”

With a hesitant but understanding nod, you allowed San to step out of the room. You quickly removed your clothes and got under the sheet, worried that San would just step in when you were completely naked. You ensured that the sheet was tucked tightly around you so that you were only showing so much skin and put your face down. Several seconds later, San knocked on the door.

“Ready?”

“Ready!”

San entered the room again and closed the door behind him. You kept your head down as you waited for him to do his thing. You did not want to make eye contact with him at all.

The first part of your body that he uncovered was your shoulder itself, and you were suddenly aware that the side of your breast was exposed to the chilly air in the room. You pursed your lips and tried not to think about the fact that with one wrong move, San could see your entire naked backside. However, San remained professional. He didn’t pull any moves on you.

The session went really well. Your thighs had never felt such relief before. According to San, your thighs needed an insane amount of pressure, but the rest of your body needed a lighter touch. After your session, he recommended that you schedule your appointments with him if you planned on returning for their services. You did just that.

You had many, many, many sessions with San since that first time. You developed a sort of professional friendship with him in that time, and on your first anniversary since starting the services at the place he worked at, you got an email from the company itself celebrating that anniversary. To celebrate, you went for another massage.

“Can you believe I’ve been seeing you for a year?” you asked him, unaware of your choice of phrasing.

“You make it sound like we’re dating,” he responded jokingly.

Your face went red. The thought of you dating your massage therapist felt taboo in a way, but that wasn’t why you were blushing— if you ever got the chance to date someone as hot as San, you probably wouldn’t be able to function ever.

“So, what’re we working on today?” San asked as he laid out the sheet.

“I slept on my neck funny—”

“I told you not to sleep with so many pillows!”

“I’m not anymore! But I fell asleep on my sofa last night…”

“Y/N! Don’t do that! You’re going to make your condition way worse,” San lectured. “You better sleep in a proper bed tonight.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. Undress and go face down. We’ll work on your neck and shoulders. Also, maybe your lower back. Your posture needs a little work.”

After undressing and getting under the sheet, San entered the room. He moved the sheet down so that your traps were completely uncovered then put some oil on his hands and rubbed his hands together to generate some heat. He started massaging lightly.

You didn’t know what was different about this time. He used the same lotion as usual, and he used the same pressure, but you were incredibly turned on— maybe it was because he was massaging much slower than usual. It didn’t help when San brushed your hair away from your neck, his nails grazing the nape of your neck almost making you moan. Your ears were burning as his fingers pressed into the sides of your neck and along your shoulders.

It was only when San traced a line down your spine and blew cool air lightly along the way did you confirm that he was definitely not doing his usual service.

“San…?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to call him out for not maintaining his usual style of massage, but you also didn’t want him to stop.

“Is everything okay?” San prompted since you didn’t respond.

“Y-yeah…”

“Want me to move onto your lower back?”

“Sure…”

San moved the sheet down further, exposing your lower back. He worked on your back, and his service went back to normal for a solid minute before you felt his hands work lower than your lower back. He was on your tail bone, then his hands went further. The sheet moved down even more, and the second he cupped your buttocks, you gasped and moaned slightly.

“S-san,” you said his name breathlessly.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“It’s a stress relieving massage. It’s meant to make every part of you feel good.”

You wanted to respond, but before you could, San squirted more oil onto your body and started rubbing your ass cheeks inwards. His firm kneading on your buttocks made your legs tingle. You had to hold onto the sides of the table to keep your sanity, your nails digging into the sheets. Small moans escaped you every so often, earning a throaty chuckle from San. The sheet completely slipped off you— rather, San pulled it off— and his hands moved to your thighs. They went from the back of your thigh to the inside, his fingers rubbing against your labia and clit over and over again. You couldn’t tell if you were wet because of the oil or because he was turning you on, but the one thing you knew for certain was that you felt the tension in your pussy build exponentially.

You gasped loudly when San’s fingers pressed into you ever so slightly, the tips of his fingernails grazing the inside of your pussy.

“You doing okay?” San asked, his voice reaching a teasing tone.

“Uh-huh,” you nearly moaned.

“So is it okay if I continue?”

“Mmhmm,” you responded, desperately needing him to help you reach your climax.

“Then flip over for me.”

San moved away from you, allowing you to turn so that you were now face up. He placed your arms and legs accordingly to assist with his massage, which meant your arms were pinned to the sides of you, and your legs were spread wide open, nearly dangling off the edges of the table. Before he resumed the massage, he poured more oil onto your body. You watched through narrowed, bleary eyes as he kept a stoic face while completely covering you with the warm oil until the bottle itself was completely empty.

The feeling of the warm oil hitting your bare skin was electrifying, and it only got better as he continued the massage. He first focused on your hip joints, your pussy still impatiently throbbing for him to satisfy you. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back as his hand neared your crotch once more, his fingers rubbing along the sides of your pussy once again while his other hand massaged your breast and played with your nipple.

Then, he drew circles over your clit. The circles started slowly at first, but they gradually sped up. Moans tumbled out of your mouth as your hands reached to push San’s away, but he had no intention of letting you interrupt his flow. He positioned himself so that no matter how you grabbed his arm to pull his fingers away from you, there was no way in hell that was going to happen.

The combination of him rubbing circles on your nipple and clit was too much for you, but you had yet to hit your climax. That was when San trapped your clit between his two fingers and rubbed vigorously, making you cum within seconds. You did your best to keep your cries of pleasure on the quiet side, but that was just not happening when San fingers slipped inside you.

“Wait, San! Ah!” you cried out as his thick fingers rushed in and out of you.

He barely gave you time to recover from your first climax, and with the added element of San’s fingers curled inside you as he pushed them in, you barely had time to resist cumming once again. You held onto San’s wrist with both of your hands, your arms weak from the pleasure. This time, you moaned loudly as you flung your head back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy. You prayed that San wouldn’t continue with this spectacular massage of his, and your prayers were answered. After you came the second time, San moved away from the table and grabbed a couple of towels for you and him.

“Your session is over,” San said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “However, if you would like to extend, I’d be happy to continue with the service when I get off of work.”

Despite cumming twice within the session, you wanted more from him. You nodded, your face still flushed, your words not formulating properly, and your eyes unable to maintain eye contact with him.

“I get off my shift in thirty minutes. Wait for me in the parking lot.”

San left the room, allowing you to wipe down yourself completely, dress, and head to the parking lot. You did as he instructed and waited for him in the parking lot, anxiety starting to prick at your skin. He got off his shift right as he said he would. He walked to his car and unlocked the doors. He opened the passenger’s side door and watched you fully sit inside before closing the door on your behalf and getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive was silent. This was the first time you had ever been with your massage therapist outside of the workplace, which made you realize that you practically knew nothing about the man other than some of his hobbies and daily activities— very surface level stuff. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him any questions; the sexual tension was heavy, and it felt like you were choking on it.

You arrived at San’s place. You walked into his apartment timidly, completely self-conscious about the fact that he was right in front you. He led you to his bedroom where you stood awkwardly as he disappeared into his closet. He emerged bearing a soft, plush robe. He handed it to you as he said in a low, quiet voice, “Go take a shower. You still need to wash the oil off.”

“Right,” you nodded and accepted the robe.

“You can leave your clothes in the bathroom for now. When you’re done, come back into my bedroom.”

Acknowledging what he said, you went into his bathroom and did as he asked. Your mind was in a daze as you cleaned the oil off your body to the best of your ability. The evening had moved so fast that you didn’t even know exactly how you got to be standing naked in San’s shower, and you even wondered if being there that night was even a good idea; but then, your mind flashed to how good the man in the other room made you feel, and you decided that being in his apartment was definitely going to be worth it. You quickly finished up in his bathroom shortly after that revelation. Wearing the robe, you left his bathroom and returned to his bedroom, where he was standing by the foot of his bed. He had changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white tank top. You felt your body heat up and your face burn upon seeing him.

“Did you wash everything off, Y/N?” San asked you as he turned his entire body to face you.

“To the best of my ability.”

“Hmm, let’s check then. Lie here.”

San gestured to the side of the bed he was standing near. You walked slowly towards him before sitting then lying on the bed face up. Before getting on the bed himself, San dimmed the lights in his room. He trapped your waist between his knees, his face hovering above yours as he brushed your hair away from your face. His fingers wiped the side of your neck as if he was actually searching for any missed spots, but it was definitely a ruse— his fingers trailed down the side of your neck across your collarbones and down the center of your chest. His hand slipped under the robe and began to feel up your breast. You tilted your head to the side, squeezed your eyes shut, and whimpered as you felt San’s other hand hold your waist tightly. You couldn’t help but yelp when San ran his finger over your nipple and began to play with your nipple.

Your hands clutched the bedsheets as if you were holding on for dear life, and your legs were pressed together as you felt your pussy get wetter with every passing second. Your eyes went wide open when San moved one end of the robe away from your breast, his lips planting on your nipple instantly. Your whole body lurched as he sucked painfully hard, his tongue flicking your nipple. He still had his hand on your breast, which he squeezed as he continued to lick and suck, nearly driving you crazy. Your eyes were shut once more as you flung your head back to fully experience this newfound ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt his lips and hand release your breast. You watched his chest heave with every deep breath he took. Your heart fluttered as that broad chest of his lowered so that it was nearly pressed against yours. He tilted your chin so that you were forced to make eye contact with him, and you felt yourself get turned on all over again. His lips parted momentarily, as if he wanted to say something or ask you a question, but he settled for running his tongue over his lower lip before bringing his lips to meet yours.

San’s lips were sweet and warm, but his kiss was rough and hot. Your hands found his forearms and held onto them tightly as you pushed yourself further into his amazingly intense kiss. His lips were magnetic. When the kiss ended, you wanted to return to him so quickly, but he instead sat up. He had the most intense and sultry look on his face as he gazed at you.

It was only when San took his tank top off did you realize how muscular he was. Sure, you saw his biceps and triceps when you first laid eyes on him in the tank top, but you weren’t thinking about what his body looked like underneath. He remained upright as he tossed the top to the ground. You could barely count the number of abs you could see on him in the faint light, and before you could figure out the number, he took your hands in his and neared you once more. He placed your hands so that they were on the back of his neck.

“Keep your hands right there, okay?”

You nodded. You were expecting him to kiss you again, so it completely took you by surprise when his fingers untied your robe and pushed it aside, his hands forcing you to spread your legs. He rubbed your pussy lightly before checking his fingers, his tongue running along the tips of his fingers to taste. You desperately wanted to cover your red hot face in embarrassment, but you did as San told and kept your hands firmly planted on the back of his neck.

“You did a good job cleaning yourself up,” he told you, a slight smirk appearing on his face.

San lowered himself and placed his lips right by your ear, his hand returning to rubbing your pussy. You let out little erotic gasps as San’s thumb pushed lightly into you as he rubbed. You moved your head towards his, your hand slipping from his neck to his cheek. You guided him gently to kiss you as his fingers continued to make your pussy wetter.

It was when San let out impatient grunts did you begin to feel a little restless. You desperately wanted something in you whether it be his fingers or his cock, and you knew that he was reaching his limit; so, you moved your hand down to his waist and cupped his crotch, the bulge in his pants immediately getting bigger. San’s breathing hitched as he moaned your name.

Without a second to lose, San stripped himself down completely before ripping the robe off of you. You were both completely naked, and while San had seen you naked plenty of times in the past, this was the first time you ever saw him in his entirety. You couldn’t really gauge how big he was when you felt him up just moments before, so you certainly were not expecting to see a massive weapon at his disposal. Reaching towards his nightstand, San grabbed a condom and swiftly rolled it on. His hands reached for your waist and pulled you towards him gently, his lips near your neck as the tip of his dick pressed lightly against your entrance.

“Breathe in,” San whispered as if you were lying on the massage table.

You took a deep breath in, and when you exhaled, San pushed his way into you. Your exhale turned into a loud cry, your hands automatically reaching for his neck once again. You held him close to you as he began to move, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt his length reach all the way inside you and his girth stretch you out completely.

San’s thrusts slowly sped up. He was being rather gentle with you, which at first made you want to demand more from him, but when he slammed his pelvis into yours, you decided to keep your mouth shut— he was incredibly strong and big, so him being gentle was a courtesy. Loud moans left your lips as he continued to speed up, the bed underneath the two of you slightly squeaking as his fully body force moved the mattress upwards, your eyes still glued shut.

“Y/N, look at me,” San said with a rough grunt.

You blinked a couple of tears out of your eyes as you barely made eye contact with San. He wiped the tears from the corner of your eye, his other hand still firmly grasping your waist. You felt time come to a standstill when you stared into San’s deep, beautiful eyes. Just looking into your eyes was enough for him; San let out a deep shuddering sigh as he slammed into your waist loudly, his dick quivering inside you. Seeing San bite his lower lip as he came made you cum as well, a whimper leaving you as your cries of pleasure died down.

Silently, San got off his bed. He removed the condom, tied it up, and threw it away before joining you on the bed again. He laid down right next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and bringing you closer to him. You pressed your ear against his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart as the two of you calmed down.

“How was that for you?”

“Heavenly… But San, I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

You both leaned away from each other so you could see your faces as you conversed. You unconsciously rubbed your knee against his dick, causing him to flinch and pull away from you a little bit more; you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“Why?” You asked him your question.

“Why what?”

“Why did you sleep with me?”

“Because I wanted to,” San said matter-of-factly.

“But why me?”

San let out a light exhale. His fingers brushed past your ear as he cupped your face gently and brought your face the slightest bit closer to him.

“I thought you were cute from the moment I first saw you last year, Y/N. Then, I thought you were incredibly sexy the second I saw your body.”

“You’re lying,” you said with a scoff.

“No, I’m not. Every session is always difficult for me because I always wanted to do unspeakable things to you. You know, I don’t do skin-to-skin contact with any of my other clients. Only you.”

You went silent upon hearing this confession from him. You felt your heart rate go up the tiniest bit while you asked quietly, “You really like me that much?”

“Yes, I really like you that much, Y/N.”

“So then why now of all times?”

“I finally broke today because, like you said, it’s our one year anniversary. Happy anniversary,” San stated simply as if the two of you were celebrating a romantic anniversary.

He kissed the top of your head and hugged you closer, his bare skin making yours feel fiery hot. You also felt him get incredibly turned on as his waist pressed into yours, his hips rotating slightly as he pushed himself closer to you.

“Let’s go again,” you told him, your lips right at his ear, causing him to shiver.

San pulled you on top of him in an instant, your knees on either side of his waist. He had a breathtaking smile on his face before and after you left a sweet kiss on his lips that made your heart flutter even more. He held your waist as he nodded and said, “Again.”

#choi san #san smut #ateez #san x reader #choi san ateez #san ateez #ateez san #broatz

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min-hoax · 10 months

Text

dirty little secrets - knj

Summary: Namjoon was a hopeless romantic. He thought that was his destiny, and for you? That was simply your doom.

Pairing: Yandere! Namjoon x F! Reader

Word Count: 8.25K

Warning(s): Obsession, stalking, he’s so delusional 😍, the reader is a messy bitch BUT I love her, infidelity, underage drinking, mentions of drugZ (characters are over 18!), mentions of suicide, manslaughter, mentions of blood and a dead body, mentions of attempted SA, MDNI 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, sliiiiiiiight breeding kink (it’s me, yall should’ve known😭)

A/N: I know I said I’d be gone, but I got so inspired!! This fic is written in Namjoon’s POV! Enjoy being in our lovely yanderes’ mind. 😈 UNEDITED!!!

I dreamt of you before I met you.

In my romanticizing mind where I’d day dream about our life and what could be. You, wrapped around my arms as you slept. Us, on a trip that you desired to go to ever since you were a child.

It was moments like those that made me wait for you, and only for you because the moment I set my eyes on you, I was a goner.

I smiled at you from across the room when we locked eyes, the blaring music thundering inside my chest as you sat on a table, your legs swinging up and down. You nodded when your friend voiced something loudly, agreeing to whatever it was, but yet your eyes remained on mine.

I caught your eyes just like you caught mine.

But my admiration did not last long for a boy slithered his way into your embrace, a red cup of liquor in his hand that he passed to you while pecking your lips. I should have known a beautiful angel like you was bound to be in the arms of a lover, but how come I felt a little pang on my chest the second your lips locked with his?

I knew we were meant to be because how did the universe connect us both so effortlessly? It wanted us together and I knew that the second I saw you again. I set my eyes on you that same night, this time not at a house party, but at your own home.

Our home.

The move frightened me and caused my calamitous mind to drown in nightmares of what could be’s, but once I set foot in the town that I now called my home, I knew everything was going to be fine. Everyone was kind and welcoming and I didn’t even spend a sweat in finding a home once I packed my childhood home up and made my way north.

The memories of my mother were too haunting and I simply could not bear it. I had enough money from the life insurance company I acquired after her passing and made the decision so quickly after.

I found the ad one Saturday afternoon: Room For Rent! $525 A Month. ALL Amenities Included. I talked to a woman on the phone (now I know it was your mother) when I reached out, allowing her to know I was interested in the offer. She was kind and after a longing while of questions, she accepted and I made my way to you. I just didn’t know it then.

Your scream from fright made me jump, the cup of water in my hands slightly dripping droplets on the wooden ground. “What the fuck?” You muttered, taking a step back. Your eyes were messy with makeup, the night no doubt taking a toll on your sleep, after all it was three in the morning when you walked inside. “Who the hell are you?”

I meant to speak, but the creek of your mothers’ door opening upstairs kept me from opening my mouth, and seeing you standing before me did not help either. Your mother made her way to us, wrapping her pink fleecy robe around her waist. Your scream no doubt roused her from sleep.

“What’s going on - oh.” She looked at us. Did she not tell you about me? Perhaps not, it was obvious. But I was slightly afraid that I’d be scolded by your mother. I was free to roam the inside of your home to make my meals and shower and get a cup of water in the middle of the night, but yet you were her daughter and mothers were always fiercely protective. I knew.

“Sweetheart.” She started and smiled. “This is Namjoon. I guess I didn’t tell you he’d be renting the room at back.”

“Uh, since when?”

“Since… two nights ago?” She looked at me, trying to remember. I nodded. “Yes, since Thursday. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t know I was desperate to feel your touch, but as soon as your hands fit in mind when you shook it and introduced yourself with a tired smile on your face, I shuddered.

“Well I'm glad you weren’t an intruder.” Your hand slipped from mind as you made your way into the kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it with water whilst speaking. “Just, mom, please give me a heads up next time.”

Next time? I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. I knew there were others before me, the wall by my bed was vandalized with small figures and initials that read KTH, and I always wondered who resided in the room I now slept in.

You looked like an angel when you took a step towards the stairs, turning your head to smile at me one last time. The light on the ceiling gifted you with a glow that made me smile like an idiot. “Goodnight.”

Oh, I was a goner.

I couldn’t help it. I was never a violent person and I even surprised myself when I thought of punching your boy in his perfect face. I knew for a fact that though I was taller and was at an advantage, I could not win in a fight because I had never been in one. I was never the confrontational type.

He was the epitome of perfection. Round, but define cheeks, plump pink lips that made my jaw clench when yours connected with his, and blonde hair that fit him perfectly. He was everything that I wasn’t and that made me want to shrivel up inside and scream with rage until my throat was sore and my voice was nonexistent.

But I could only dream.

“Namjoon, please, help yourself.” Your mothers voice called for me, taking me out of my thoughts and onto the situation that I did not want to deal with. You and Park Jimin.

He sat before me, a plate of breakfast on the diner table and an arm wrapped around the back of you as you nursed a cup of coffee.

There was something with you and coffee. I always noticed you would make yourself a cup, take a few sips, but you never finished it. Always throwing it out the drain before you made your way to school. I always wondered. Until I didn’t.

I wasn’t in school, not yet anyway. After I graduated a few years back my mother tried her best to steer me towards it, but I wasn’t interested, even after the various scholarships I was offered. I knew I could still, for I was smart and capable. There was a part of me that did want to, just to simply join you at the community college you and Jimin went to, but I refrained.

I wasn’t a stalker.

“So Namjoon, how are you liking it here?” Jimin suddenly spoke with a bright smile on his cheeks. It wasn’t that it took me by surprise, Jimin had never spoken to me directly, but I didn’t want him to talk to me. To me, the younger boy was obnoxiously loud and a nuisance.

I breathed as I pushed the want of rolling my eyes. But instead, I took a finger on the bridge of my glasses and pushed them up. I smiled.

“It’s great.” I replied, nodding. “Everyone is kind and the setting is absolutely beautiful. The forestation that surrounds us is amazing.” I couldn’t help but to look at you as I voiced my opinion. I wasn’t lying, you were absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

Jimin raised a brow and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never really noticed what surrounds us, but I agree.” And with a sip of his apple juice, the conversation between us ended.

I was glad.

But where a conversation dies, another one starts. Your mother was a very talkative person. I had only been with you all for about two weeks in a half, but I felt like I knew her for years. She talked about herself a. lot, and I only wished that she did of you, but I figured she was just lonely after her husband’s passing.

She talked about him all the time and I noticed that she refrained from speaking about him when you were around. From what she spoke of your father, he seemed like a good man. It was only after you left one day to go to school, she finally confessed. She cornered me in the laundry room when I went to gather my clothes and started speaking of everything and anything, until she came about your father.

“My love struggled a lot when he was on earth side. He was fine for a while, but it got too much for him and one day he decided to leave us. My sweet girl found him.”

After that, I finally understood. Why she never spoke of him when you were present and why you made yourself a cup of coffee, but never drank it. The cup was your fathers, engraved with his initials on the side.

I felt my heart break for you and all I could say was that I was sorry. You didn’t deserve to live with the trauma inside of your wonderful mind and inside your perfect heart. In a way I understood you. My mother had gotten sick, until one day the sickness enveloped her whole until she was left with nothing and I was left with a hole inside my chest. There was nothing else to do for her.

My heart jumped as you stood because it mean you’d leave. I could only look at you as you made your way to the sink (as expected) took a farewell sip of the coffee before dumping it in.

“Have a good day.” I said with a wide smile as you retrieved your backpack and the baby blue cup you seemed to take with you everywhere. At least you stayed hydrated. I knew because you had to go to the restroom often.

You returned it, that beautiful smile that made me want to kneel at your feet and beg you to smile for all of eternity. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And you walked, “Bye mom, love you.”

My smile died as Jimin wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek. And you smiled. I only looked away, watching you unlock your vehicle and getting inside of it.

This jealousy only seemed to grow. I couldn’t help it. I wished you weren’t someone else’s. I wish that my miserable self had gotten here just a little bit earlier, maybe then you’d have been mine.

But would you have liked me?

I never considered myself someone who others would accept romantically. Growing up, I was a lame excuse of a human being, always too shy, always too quiet and afraid to speak my mind. As I grew older, I got better at communicating with the people around me, but I still stuttered when I spoke, and still struggled to continue a conversation.

It was a blessing and a curse because nobody spoke to me, just as I wanted it to be.

As I wrote, I simply couldn’t focus. All I thought of was you, every day and every second that passed by. No one had ever captivated my mind the way you did. I waited for you in my home right outside in the backyard. There was a small window by the door - the only way to get inside and out. It faced yours and I would always see you once you arrived and came home from school.

We had a routine. You’d see me through the curtains, and we’d smile at each other as I worked and I couldn’t wait until dinner arrived because I’d be in your presence and you’d be in mine.

There was something in your eyes that made me believe that you… wanted me. Was I delusional? I’d see it every single time you’d pull your chair out for dinner. You’d give me a smirk as you made your way next to me and I would only give a small hello and thank your mother for the delicious food that she had prepared. But through it, you’d look at me through the corner of your eye and I would only pretend I didn’t see.

You had Jimin. You weren’t like that. That’s what I truly believed until you came stumbling into my room, drunk in the middle of the night and immediately grabbing onto my shirt and connecting your lips with mine.

My heart had never pounded so fast. It took me by surprise which is why I took a hold of your shoulders and gently took a step back. “What are you doing?” Your eyes were bloodshot, like you’d been crying and I cupped your warm cheeks into my hands and took a glance at your cherry-burgundy lips.

“Do you not want me?” The tone in how you voiced the question made my heart ache; begging and fretful. How could you say such a thing? I have always wanted you, but not like this.

“Come. Sit.” I grabbed your wrist and I sat you on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on? What happened?” I towered over you as you sniffled and looked at me with tearful eyes.

“Jimin, -“

Of course.

“ - he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” You said it so meekly that I almost didn’t hear you. “He - he keeps making excuses about how he wants to wait till marriage, but I mean that is such bullshit! It’s outdated and stupid. Who at this date and age does not want to have sex? He’s not even religious!” As much as it pained me to see the tears falling from your eyes so delicately, I couldn’t help but to feel a sense of victory through your defeat.

Did this mean your relationship with Jimin was coming to an end? It had to, right? You seemed happy at his side, but now, as I saw the proof in front of me, it was all a faux.

But there was also a part of me that felt angry. Was I just your second choice? Would you have come for me and begged for me to bed you if you had other men wrapped around your finger?

“Well, -“ I started slowly, taking a seat to the right of you. “ - sometimes people like to wait, you know, just to be sure that the person they're giving themselves up for is… worth it.”

You sniffled again, wiping at your face. “You - you think he thinks I’m not worth it? We’ve been together for almost two years.”

Remind me, why don’t you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, but a girl like you, you’re worth everything. To give up for, to kill for. Just say the words and you’ll have men at their knees. You decide.”

You were taunting me, it was so obvious. With those deliciously roguish eyes that eyed me with want and the skirts that barely covered your bottoms with the shirts that you paired that were the definition of skimpy, I knew what game you were playing.

It was when your arms would stray away from your lap and would just gently touch my arms at dinner, I knew that you wanted me the way I wanted you.

But it was wrong. Although I hated Jimin, I couldn’t help but to think that if I were in his position, your betrayal would wound me like no other. He seemed to love you, yet here you were, teasing me with your sensual eyes and your beautiful body that I absolutely wanted to ravish and worship.

But through the slight guilt I felt, there was a part of me that was… happy. Your mother was a nurse, working mostly every night at the local hospital which left me home, alone with you and with my tumultuous mind. You and Jimin were almost similar it seemed. You’d argue almost every night when he stayed to keep you company.

And though I couldn’t help but to feel jealous, a part of me was comfortable with him at your side because after that night that you came to me for comfort, the virgin wanted to wait until marriage.

My mother raised me right which is why I pushed myself away from listening to your heated match. But how could I? I had never met someone who could screech in anger the way you did to him.

He left soon thereafter, slamming the door with such force that it made my body jump from the sound. I fought with myself to go check on you, maybe you needed your space, but the thought of you crying was enough to do me in. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, climbing the stairs and making my way to you.

The knock on the door was almost timid and quiet, but even when you didn’t answer, I gently opened it, and there you were, in a fetus position laying on your side, hugging a giant teddy bear to your chest.

“Hi.” You whispered looking up at me with those eyes that I loved so much. But they were swollen, and my immediate thought was to comfort you. I didn’t think when I sat at your side, brushing the strands of hair that were at the front of your face.

“Hey, there beautiful.”

You huffed, “I look far from beautiful right now.”

How could you ever think that? You were an angel fallen from heaven.

“Do you think he hates me? I said some pretty shitty things.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but for your sake I simply shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure he understands that people say shitty things when they're angry. I mean, I’m sure he has said some things to you before, no?”

With a shake of your head you maneuvered your body, landing right on your back with the teddy bear on top.

“No, Jimin isn’t like that. He’s quiet in moments like these. I feel like that makes me angrier, you know? Like tell me something, tell me that I’m a bitch or that you hate me, but say something! Anything!”

I understand why he kept quiet. I would never say things of that magnitude to you. It was a disrespect that no one could come back from because you would never deserve it.

“So you like to be degraded?” I teased, raising a brow.

“What?” You chuckled. There it was. Just exactly what I wanted. “Of course not, Namjoon!” I smiled at the playful strike you landed on my thigh. “I’m just saying, I just feel like he doesn’t try to communicate.”

“Well… maybe you need to find someone else.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Someone who could take your needs as theirs and actually knows how to communicate. My mother always said that communication was key in a relationship.”

“But I love him.” I swear, my chest felt like it was struck with something so tight that I couldn’t comprehend. How could you say something like that in my presence? Couldn’t you see how much I loved you?

And through my anger, I couldn’t help but to reply. “Sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go. I know it’s hard, but I know you know Jimin isn’t good for you. All this arguing, this crying, it will only take a toll on you that you cannot take.”

Your fingertips on my thigh took me by surprise, stroking it with such sensuality as you looked up at me with those eyes that screamed for me to take you to bed. “And how would you know, hm? Have you ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?”

My breath hitched as your fingers played with the waist of my pants, tugging them down just slightly. “N - no.”

It was a lie. But why bring past mistakes into my future? I hated lying to you, but a little white lie would never hurt.

“No?” You hummed, now on your knees as you came closer. I could feel your breathing and as my hands guided you into my lap, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My lips connected with yours with such hunger, such intensity. How I longed to hold you close and have you by my side. Your body wrapped around mine felt so right, like a puzzle piece I knew I was missing. Couldn’t you see? We were perfect for each other.

With a small grunt, I laid you down on your bed without separating myself from you, desperately taking off your oversized shirt that you hid your alluring body from. And with hunger, I wrapped my lips around your beautiful breasts, pecking your sternum and making my way down to the waist of your pants. You complied, raising your hips and allowing me to remove the nuisance from your waist.

And what a sight. There wasn’t an inch of you that I couldn’t find a flaw. Stretch marks followed the side of your thighs, and along the middle of your tummy. I kissed them with reverence before my tongue dove inside the place I always wanted to be in.

You tasted absolutely divine. And I was hungry for more as I sucked on the little pearl between your legs, wrapping my hands around your thighs and hugging you closer.

“Namjoon.” You whimpered, and that made me want you even more.

The small little gasp you made made me smirk and I didn’t hold back from bringing you close to the orgasm that you were on the brink of, but I held back. I wanted to be inside of you as I came and held my hold inside of you. You looked up at me as I undressed, my sweatpants on the ground in an instant before I held you tight between my arms and entered the place I had dreamt of being.

Your brows furrowed from the uncomfortableness, it was to be expected as I was your first - the first man that had ever been inside of you. The thought almost brought me to the brink, but I wanted your first time to be loving and special.

And just as I expected, the feeling was euphoric and I couldn’t help but to moan and drop my head in the warmth of your neck. Your hands held my neck tight as you adjusted, soft little pants escaping your precious lips. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” I whispered, giving you soft little pecks on your lips and on your forehead as comfort.

“I - I think you can move.”

“Are you sure?” The furrow in between your brows was gone, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to hurt you, but when you nodded and gave me a smile, I pulled away from the warmth between your legs, and made my way in once again.

At that moment, my dreams were coming true. Jimin was nonexistent as I knew it was the same for you. You muttered my name and my name only as you held me with a vice grip and kissed me on the lips.

I had never been brought to such ecstasy the way I did with you. After you came for the first time before I brought you to more, I soon followed, gasping for breath from the feeling of you holding by cock with such a vice grip.

We took a breath for a second as we giggled like school children and kissed each other hard. But you were insatiable. You wanted for more even as your legs shook with exhaustion and you mounted me and rode me like I was the last man on earth.

But of course, you needed to sleep and your body knew it, and soon after we finished making love, your eyes drooped and you slept so soundly, close to my chest and my beating heart.

I couldn’t help but to stroke your belly. Maybe… my seed would take place inside of you and you’d be pregnant before we knew it. In my mind, I sickly hoped that you were. I knew that I was going out on a limb and that one couldn’t get pregnant with just one night, but I wanted you to be.

I always dreamt of a family. Was I so wrong to want something with the woman I loved?

But the righteous won. We were still young and… Jimin, Jimin was still in the picture. Goddamn Park Jimin. I hated him with everything I had, and I hated my mind even more for ruining the afterglow I was basking in.

With I sigh, I gently kissed the crown of your head, getting dressed with the thought of making my way to a pharmacy and getting you a contraceptive to prevent pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t right.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and with a glance, my stomach dropped as I read it.

JiHoon: Hey, baby. I loved that little present you gave me. See you soon?

I couldn’t help the tears from forming and with a slam to your door, I left your bedroom, no doubt rousing you from your sleep.

I couldn’t stop staring at you. The night you gifted me with stuck to my mind. You gave me something forbidden that I couldn’t come back from. After I left your bedroom, I made my way to the pharmacy, slightly smiling at the only cashier and took the bag with me. I left it on your nightstand, but I couldn’t bear to look as you slept.

You betrayed me.

You kept betraying me. The fight you had with Jimin seemed to be forgotten. You two lovebirds were inseparable the following day. Were you not guilty? Or did you just stick by his side because he was all you knew and you couldn’t let go?

I knew I could give you something better. Something that was worth your time and effort. I’ll take you out of this town that you lived in your whole life and perhaps we could live in the home I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the both of us.

“Hey, Namjoon.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You awkwardly looked away and eyed Jimin. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

You both sat at the hanging bench that was at the front of your house, your arm wrapped around his. Jimin smiled at me, nodding at my precence, but I didn’t follow. I couldn’t help but to glare. But as soon as it formed, I hid it, immediately smiling bright, looking down at the both of you.

I was feeling messy.

“Did you take it?”

It was obvious I caught you off guard. You gulped, letting out a nervous chuckle. Jimin, of course had no idea about the contraceptive I had bought you, and I took pride and a bit of sick pleasure at your unprepared face

“Take what?” Jimin questioned with furrowed brows.

“Uh - just, I - I had a headache last night, and uh, Namjoon gave me pain killers. That’s it.”

You weren’t a great liar, but you were fast.

“Good.” I nodded, “You should just have a few on hand, you know, for when it happens again because headaches -“ I eyed Jimin, shaking my head, “they’re the worst.”

“Right. You know what, we were leaving. We have a movie to watch.” You stood quickly, taking a hold of your lover's hand and when you walked and I was at your back, I spoke once again.

“You don’t mind if I tag along?”

There was a pause as the birds chirped and Jimin turned. “Uh, yeah sure, why not?” I knew the invite was just a lie, but I knew the man wasn’t going to turn me down; he was kind and simply couldn’t take it.

“I’ll drive.” I offered, my long legs allowing me to walk ahead and just as I wanted, I stood next to you, opening the door to my vehicle and letting you go first. “Thanks.” You muttered.

The drive was… unpleasant. As much as Jimin tried to make small conversation, it simply didn’t go anywhere. I hated to admit, but Jimin wasn’t so bad. He tried his best to make me comfortable and no doubt himself, but I despised him and a part of him knew.

When we arrived at the theater after Jimin kept instructing me where to go, I paid for the tickets and for the snacks. I figured it was the least I could do after I stuck with you both like a leech. Jimin was thankful, patting me on the back and taking a seat on the tables the theater offered. He nodded when you voiced you needed to go to the restroom, and I took a seat, taking a sip of the cherry slushee.

“I don’t mean to pry, but did she tell you what happened last night?” His question caught me off guard.

“She didn’t have to tell me. I heard everything.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s just - when she gets like that, she can’t stop and it’s difficult to speak.”

Was he seriously blaming you right now?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“You ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?” Why did it sound like he was mocking me? Did I seem to be below him because I didn’t carry his fair skin and plump pink lips? He was everything I wasn’t - had everything I wanted, and I wanted to punch him until he was left unrecognizable and no one would ever look his way.

“No.” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not really.” He looked at me with confusion. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?

I despised thinking of Anna, and leave it to Jimin to bring back memories I wanted to bury deep in my consciousness. She was a woman who deserved no mercy, not after the way she spoke of my mother, like if she were scum below her shoes.

My mother was the light of my life and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her and held her close to my heart.

I loved Anna, or at least I thought I did, and I admit, it did hurt me letting her go, but now I know that what I had with her was never love. She was a fiend, and you are an angel.

“I prefer not to talk about it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

“No, of course no -“

I didn’t even let him finish. With caution, I checked my surroundings before I entered the women’s restroom, intently scanning the thin wooden doors of the stalls and once I caught the black Converse’s you wore, I placed my back against the wall, and waited.

The small little gasp of fear that escaped your mouth once you saw me made me smile. “Sorry. I just had to talk to you.” I shrugged, grabbing your wrists to bring you close. I couldn’t deny that it pained me when I went in to kiss you and you pushed me away.

There was confusion written all over my face, it was obvious, and you noticed.

“What the hell are you doing, Namjoon? Jimin is right outside and you can get in trouble if someone finds you in here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you. You - you have been acting weird ever since yesterday. I get it - just come over to my room tonight, yeah? Please? I have something I want to give you.”

You raised your brows. “Another plan B pill?

“Well, if I didn’t get it for you, you might as well could’ve been pregnant at this very moment. If you wanted to have my baby, you could have just said so.”

Would that really have been that bad?

“Don’t be an ass, dude.” With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you turned, making your way to the sink and pumping soap onto your hands. I followed just behind you and took you by the hips.

“Please?” My hands slithered lower and by the look of the reflection, I knew you were craving for more just as much as I was.

“O - okay. Fine. Just, let me go first or Jimin will realize what’s going on.”

“By all means,-“ I gestured with my hand. - ladies first.” And with a stolen kiss I smiled, seeing you walk away and no doubt, into the arms of my mortal enemy.

My leg shook with anticipation as I looked at the clock on my desk: 2:36AM. You said you’d be here, so where the hell were you? As soon as we got home from the theater, you said goodbye to Jimin and locked yourself inside your room. I knew because I knocked on your door multiple times before giving up and making my way to the little backyard home I resided in.

I huffed, landing with a thump on my bed, entertaining myself with the charm bracelet that was on my hand. My heart pounded once I heard two little knocks on my door and I instantly stood up and opened the door.

I smiled brightly once I saw you, dressed in a gray v-neck shirt and baby pink pajama pants with cupcakes cluttered on the cloth. “Hey, beautiful. What took you so long?”

You made your way in, taking a seat on my bed. “I took a nap.”

I chuckled and raised a brow. “You don’t take naps.”

Teasing, you replied, getting rid of your slippers and wrapping yourself around my blanket. “And how would you know that? Hm?”

I shrugged, “Through your window. You snore, do you know that?” I laughed out loud when you smacked me with my pillow, gasping with offense. “No I do not! You’re such a little liar!”

This could be our future.

Content and happiness, just you and I. Our home filled with laughs and quick witted banters. Couldn’t you see? We belonged together. I knew it the second I saw you.

“Here.”

My hand was out, presenting you the bracelet that I cherished as a part of me. My mother never took it off, from what I knew, she’d had it in her early teens and kept it since. You meant everything to me now, and it was yours to have.

“It’s beautiful Namjoon.” You gasped, sitting upright, stroking the charms.

“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.” I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to decline, but I wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”

I took a hold of your wrist, wrapping the jewelry around your carpus and connecting the clasp.

“Namjoon, I can -“

“Yes.” I pushed. “You can. I want you to have it. I have no purpose for it. It doesn’t fit and I’d rather it be used than to be locked inside a box without it ever seeing daylight again. Please? It would mean a lot to me.”

You eyed me for a few seconds then sighed. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. You took me by surprise because like a flash of light, you engulfed me and kissed me with need. I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. In seconds I wrapped you in my arms and our clothes were nonexistent - dropped on the floor in a haste to make ourselves whole.

I will never get enough of you. Your little gasp of pleasure made my tummy fill with extreme need as I entered you and held you close. It was intimate, our love making sounds resounding in my room. You cupped my face, gently stroking as if I wasn’t real and you wanted to verify if I was really there, making love to you.

“I’m here. I got you, sweetheart.”

And I was never letting you go.

The frantic 2AM call took me by surprise. It woke me from the deep slumber I was in, but the moment I saw your name on my screen, I didn’t hesitate to disconnect my phone from its charger and answer. I called your name in question and your distraught voice I heard next.

It was distressing, hysterical.

“Namjoon? I didn't know who else to call, but - but can you please come? I - I need your help, I don’t know what I di - he’s not fucking moving -he’s not answering i just pushed him and-

“Breathe, I’m on my way okay, just stay there. Don’t move.”

I don’t think I have ever sped the way I did making my way to you. As I parked my car on the side of the abandoned road, behind the white car with its hazards flashing bright, I knew something had happened.

Something terrible that you had done.

It wasn’t until I stepped out of my vehicle that I saw his limped body on the asphalt, a puddle of scarlet blood oozing from his head. You sat at his side with your knees inside your chest and with your frizzy hair at the front of your face, you looked up at me slowly. “He’s dead.”

I would’ve never thought I’d have to get rid of a dead body. A part of me felt disgusted as the monstrous act I had done devoured me whole, but I didn’t feel… guilt.

The immense jealousy that raged within me kept me from doing so. You met him, the bastard that made me cry after I made you mine for the first time, JiHoon, on a deserted road to enjoy hiding your dirty little secret: your adulterous little soul. I wished I understood why you felt the need to run into the arms of another when you had Jimin, you had me and god only knew how many others.

But even then, I still wanted you, through your imperfections and your need to want other men even though they caused me absolute agony. Good riddance to the bludgeoned man who crossed your path. He forced himself on you and there was only one way the night was going to end.

I’d done it to protect you, to keep you sane and perhaps even have you to myself.

The night bound us as one. A clandestine service that we would take to our deaths.

After I placed the cold corpse into my trunk, I took the tiny packet of white substance that laid on the concrete ground, and placed it inside my jeans. It was a good thing you both came in your car. There wouldn’t be any suspiciousness, hopefully, and we’d forget about this illicit night.

“Go home.” I said in seriousness, taking a hold of you by the nape of your hair. I was angry at you that I couldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and sniffled, cupping my hand and gently rubbed. “Thank you.”

And with a start of the engine, you raised your window up, and drove away.

“Namjoon!” Your mothers voice made my body jerk from surprise. I was on edge, it was human and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the situation I knew would take a while to get rid of. Your mother loved to talk.

“Hello.” I muttered with an empty smile. Your home smelled divine with the aroma of freshly made food, but I didn’t have an appetite. Who would?

“Will you join me today? My sweetheart of a daughter isn’t feeling too well. She came home reeking of god knows what and emptied her guts as soon as she stepped foot in the door.” With a shake of her head, she took a seat, gulping down the glass of wine in an instant.

If only she knew that her ‘sweetheart of a daughter’ wasn’t such a sweetheart after all. She had a dirty little secret and I was her accomplice.

“No. I apologize. I had a long night. I only wish to go to bed, if you do not mind.” I felt terrible for turning her down, but the only thought in my mind was to see you. To nurse you back to health even when I knew that you were traumatized by what you have done.

Your mother sighed and shrugged. “I understand. Have a good night.”

“Do you mind if I go see her? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. My long legs took me there in seconds and as soon as I walked inside your bedroom, I took a seat beside you. You laid there on your side, your eyes red and swollen from the tears that were nonstop. “Can you lay with me, please?”

Who was I to not obey? I took you onto my chest, cupping your wet cheeks onto my hands. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You muttered as you sobbed. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mea -“

“Shh, I know. You did nothing wrong, my love. But I want you to promise something, can you do that?”

You nodded. “You can’t speak to anyone about this, okay? No matter how much you want to. You weren’t there, do you hear me? I wasn’t there.”

Shakily, you breathed and nodded once again. “I understand.”

“But now you know why not to do such a thing, hm? It’s not okay. You’re lying to me, to Jimin all for what? You did something that you will never forgive yourself for, but I want you to know that I will do it all over again, for you. Do you understand?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

—

After you slept like an angel wrapped around my arms, I left, not wanting your mom to come into your room and find us wrapped around each other.

I had trouble falling asleep, but soon thereafter, sleep found me and I slept soundly. I couldn’t believe I had. Ian hadn’t even crossed my mind. The scoundrel was six feet under and he’ll remain there where no one was to find him. Good riddance.

But you, you would never be the same. You were a murderer. An angel of death that brought a man to his knees for the simple act of crossing your path. And it seemed I was following the same path, I wasn’t dead, but when you would betray me, I would feel death dawn on me, getting closer and closer with every treachery you committed. But yet, you would bring me to cloud nine. How? I would never understand.

But I understood that I loved you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And though it suffocated me and drowned me, I always went back for more. I will always go back for more.

“Good morning.” I smiled, pecking the crown of your head as you sat with your legs crossed in the dining room, a fork at your fingertips, playing with the food on the plate. Your mother was gone, no doubt picking up an early shift at the local hospital, but as the doting mother that she was, she had left breakfast at the ready for you.

You gave me a tight lipped smile that made me frown. Your eyes were swollen, almost hollow when you looked at me. He was haunting your mind, his shadow following you, no doubt. But even when I knew, I had to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.

“How are you holding up?”

You shrugged, biting your lips. “I don’t know. Is it weird that I don’t know what I’m actually feeling? I can’t explain it, even though I really really want to.”

“It’s okay to feel that way. You went through something… traumatic, and you won’t bounce back from it as soon as possible. It takes time, but I promise as time continues, it’ll get easier.”

You eyed me. “How do you know that?”

You skeptical little, beautiful thing.

“…I am just placing myself in your shoes, I tend to do that in certain situations. Would you like more breakfast?”

You shook your head, taking one last bite of the egg before standing up. “No, thank you. I'm meeting with Jimin.”

You moved, making your way up the stairs as my jaw clenched in anger, and my words made you stop in your tracks. “Jimin, hm? I - I thought you were ending things with him.”

You turned with furrowed brows, “I never said that.” Will this be the first time I’d feel your fury towards me? It was obvious I’d pushed a button.

“No? I thought the night before might’ve been an answer to your actions. You no longer love him. You have proved it time and time again, have you not?”

“You don’t know shit, Namjoon. I love hi-“

I couldn’t help it, I was infuriated by your nonsense comment that you didn’t mean. “You’re cheating on him with me! You have multiple times. And don’t even get me started on the man that you killed last night because I’m sure you weren’t there only for the coke, or am I wrong? Hm? Why in the hell do you still go back to him!”

“Because I can, Namjoon. Because I can. And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!”

“Yesterday was my business. You had no one else to call because you don’t trust anyone. You trust me! Not Jimin, not even the friends you don’t have, not even your own mother!”

I struck a cord. I gasped when you hurled a glass cup my away and I only managed to move away immediately before it struck me.

“Fuck you, Namjoon! Fuck you!” And with that, you walked away, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door and slamming the door with such force that it shook the walls.

I stood there paralyzed and it wasn’t until I noticed that my body was shivering with anger? With distress? I couldn’t tell, but I was crying. The tears fell freely after being locked inside for what seemed like years and with blurry vision, I grabbed the broom and picked up your mess that your temper had caused.

That’s what I started to do ever since I met you: pickup after you and the disarray you left behind, and perhaps even myself. You left me in shambles and before I knew it, I was on the ground, on my knees as my shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped my chest.

And there, on the ground, in the depths of hell I felt I was in, I knew you had dug your grave. I loved you with everything I had, but this couldn’t go on any longer.

You had made your choice and I couldn't change your mind.

If I can’t have you, then you will not have anybody else.

The anonymous tip came in at midnight. I could see the blinding blue lights coming from the front yard of your house even where I resided.

Three police vehicles made themselves welcome in your yard, and I only knew exactly what was happening. Your mothers voice was louder than usual, hysterical as the officers handcuffed you and declared you your rights, walking you out onto the awaiting SUV. I made myself known, asking with faux concern and holding your mother’s shoulders as she cried, almost wanting to drag herself over to you.

There were tears in your eyes once I finally looked at you. You knew it was me and I held absolute pride even when I truly felt for you. But there was something more important in my eyes that you instantly understood.

My menacing and threatening look in my gaze. I had your mother in my grasp and if you wanted to see her once again - behind bars of course, you’d do best to keep quiet about what I had done. What I did for YOU.

Did you really think I would’ve done such a thing for you without looking out for me? I knew exactly the type of person you were, but yet, I still fell for you deeply, like no else had done - like Jimin never did.

I knew where JiHoons’ body was placed, I knew absolutely everything, and I knew enough not to wipe away your DNA from his body, your hair that I took a hold of after I told you to go home when you murdered him in cold blood.

I placed you on such a high pedestal and I despised knowing that it took me such a long time to comprehend such a thing. But I still loved you so much.

The moment I set my sight on you, I viewed you as an angel fallen from above, a beautiful creature that did no wrong.

But you weren’t an angel.

You were my hell on earth. Though you brought me to such highs, you brought me to a low, and saddened mess. Your loyal puppeteer that you knew you could manipulate just as you wanted because you knew the hold you had on me.

But you made a mistake with me and though I loved you, you had a price to pay.

It’s what you deserved.

Much love.

- Kim Namjoon.

#yandere namjoon #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere rm #yandere rm x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere kpop x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts #bts namjoon #bts joon

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spooky-bunnys · 11 months

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Bonten didn't know what to do right now. (Name) has been letting off extremely sour pheromones all day. Sanzu wasn't here yet, so they knew he was more likely the reason behind it.

But when he came in? They could figure out what was going on, from the scent coming off him. It was a female Omega in heat. The scent was practically rolling off the Alpha. It didn't take them long to add it together.

Especially since (Name) had asked Bonten, to keep them separated. From the broken look he had, and the way he avoided Sanzu. They knew exactly what happened, Sanzu had cheated on his Omega.

They knew it wasn't there business, but the sour smell was getting to be too much. "Hey (Name), could you do us a favor and get lunch? We were thinking (favorite food)." The Omega slightly perked up at the mention of his favorite food.

As Bonten's secretary/personal assistant, (Name) was always running errands for the gang members. When (Name) had gotten everyone's orders, as he quickly left, Mikey sent Kokonoi with him. For "insurance" purposes.

Once the Omega was out of the building, the others turned and started at the bubblegum hair Alpha. "What?" They continued to stare. "What did you do?" The Alpha shrugged. "We had a fight last night. So I went to the club and stayed there." Mikey gave him a blank look.

"What'd you fight about? Your cheating problem, or your drug problem?" Sanzu looked shocked. "How'd you-?" Takeomi cut him off with an annoyed look. "We can smell the Omega on you. It's like you fucking bathed in the scent." Sanzu shuffled uncomfortably.

"Does that mean-" "He knows dumbass." Sanzu flinched. "I-I didn't mean-" Rindou cut him off this time. "You didn't mean to cheat? You were high? Listen druggie, if you cheat drunk or high, it's still cheating." Sanzu frowned. "He'll come back. He always does."

Ran coughed out a laugh. "You do know Kokonoi is already trying to shoot his shot right?" Sanzu froze. "What?" Kakucho shared a look with Mikey. "Sanzu did you seriously not know? Everything you fuck up, Kokonoi is there to comfort him."

Sanzu growled standing up. "He's after my Omega!" Mochi rolled his eyes and huffed. "He's not your Omega anymore. Haven't you been to your office? He left his courting collar and extra key on your desk." Sanzu quickly dashed out of the meeting room, practically tearing his office door off its hinges.

There they were sitting on top of his paper work. The collar Sanzu had given (Name) when they stared to court, and beside that the extra key to his penthouse. Sanzu's heart broke. He softly grabbed the items. Was (Name) truly done with him?

The other members shook their heads. "He had a wonderful Omega, and he just completely fucks it up." The others nodded. "I don't know why (Name) dealt with it for so long honestly." Ran had a thinking face. His brother shrugged. "Maybe (Name) truly loved him. I don't see how, but maybe he did and was hoping he'd change."

Takeomi sighed. He brother threw away the best relationship he could've ever had. The other listened carefully hearing Sanzu destroy his office. Mikey shook his head. "He did this to himself. Nobody to blame but him. Anyways back to the meeting."

They continued the meeting only stopping, when (Name) brought them lunch. They noticed how cheerful he was, the sour scent now gone. It made them feel better. Although from the winde grin Kokonoi had, they could guess why (Name)'s mood was better.

They were glad, he didn't deserve to get hurt. He deserved happiness and love. (Name) happily talked about the adventure he and Kokonoi had. Ignoring the fact that Bonten's 2nd was missing. Which they didn't say anything about.

Until he talked about the car chase they had.

#male reader #x male reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #male omega reader #bonten x male reader #bonten #hajime kokonoi #kokonoi hajime #kokonoi #kokonoi x male reader #sanzu haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu #sanzu x male reader

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nozunhinged · 3 months

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My Top 5 BL Kisses of Jan (& Feb) 24 + why

Okay, okayyyyy I'm doing this, no backing out. I offically accept that analyzing kisses takes up so much of my brainspace that I can write about it — so here it goes. I'M NOT HIDING ANYMORE BUT OWNING UP TO IT! (lol, chill)

Last year I complained that I didn't get a single perfect kiss since I started watching BL TV shows (until PhayaTharn turned up) and now we're not even a quarter into the new year and I already got FIVE I'm absolutely in AWE about!! FIVE!!

I don't know if it's the actors, directors or coaches who upped their game (probably all of them) but hot damn, all of these are beautiful.

And don't ask me why I'm into kiss-acting so much I have no fucking clue, my first guess is that it's an artform in itself to make this amazing, wonderful, intimate form of touching look as beautiful as it feels — bc let's be honest here, irl kissing rarely looks pretty no matter how great it is! So I think it's just dope when you can see this beauty translated on screen.

So I guess this is peak romance genre for me and with that being said, enough talking, lets get to the kissykissies!

5. TenPrem - Cooking Crush EP. 11

I have to be honest with you, I was a bit confused by the kissing in this show. The tippytoe kiss was cute as heck but we all saw how Off AND Gun awkwardly blinked because they probably had to stay like that for a looooong time. It took the whole magic out of the whole first-kiss-moment. Same with the forced in, reshot makeout-scenes. But the kiss in the kitchen? Looks like they FINALLY got to show what they got.

Ten gently pulling Prem closer, them smoothly moving against each other, Ten closing in even more, the slightly open-mouthed kiss with their lips perfectly caressing each other, Ten with a bit more force, Prem with a bit more heat resulting in the perfect mix...Loved it, mwah.

4. PromNont - Playboyy EP. 12

They are my one Playboyy-couple where I'm like "if they don't end up married and running Playboyy together, starting the revolution of well-payed, insured and safe sex workers I'm gonna riot" even though I know this show will not end nicely for ANYONE.

Anyways, this kiss. Holy smokes they had so many good scenes but this one took the cake. Not just the sheer length of it (but still with perfect timing and breaks).

The slightest suck on Nonts upper lip, Prem literally making Nont sway, Nonts hidden desperation for Prom surfacing from his lips, them slowly but surely turning up the heat and last but not least, Prom grabbing Nonts face just to lean against him...UGH THEM!

(I made those)

3. Myungha & Yeowoon - Love for Love's Sake EP 8

I know I'm not alone in how this show swept me off my feet and hit me right in the feels. But I've gotta say, this kiss hit completely different. Again they kissed for so long but not a single moment felt wasted. It felt like their whole story put in a single kiss. And — I mean that in the most loving and positive way possible — they kissed so amazingly gay. Do you know what I mean?!

There's just this level of love, care and happiness that only queer couples can convey. Sprinkled with a hint of tongue (I saw that Yeowoon 👀) — they absolutely nailed it.

2. AlanJeff - Pit Babe EP. 11

The kiss that made me consider doing this post in the first place. I saw them and shouted THIS IS PERFECT just to realize that I did this a few weeks ago already and it made me spiral a little. In the best way possible because I felt truly blessed once again to have discovered the genre of BL in their golden era!

Because this right here is how you nail an open mouthed kiss my friends. Take notes BL producers. Put this in your textbooks! They both go at the same rythm (slow, careful but so, so loving JUST LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP UGH) and same level of touch so their lips caress each other perfectly. Furthermore, Alan knows exactly how to meet Jeff which is also a PERFECT EXTENSION OF HIS CHARACTER! Alan leads, Jeff follows but they meet perfectly and equally. TEN OUT OF TEN NO NOTES!

1. PhayaTharn - The Sign EP. 9

I don't understand the meaning of the "Roman Empire"-thing but I think if I say they are mine, I am correct because they will be the end of me and that's what that means right? I may be biased AF but objectively speaking, this is just an insanely well acted-out scene, PERIOD! And we all know it's thanks to Billybabes out-of-this-world-chemistry!

Phayas desperation translated into this gorgeous lip-clash, so much yearning but softness at the same time but what really got to me was how Tharn immediately melted after their lips touched, how he immediately opened up to him and got completely overwhelmed by Phayas feelings. Chapeau to Babe for showing so much range in a single second. My favorite kiss of the whole series ❤️

I also just realized all these kisses have one thing in common....hands on faces lol.

Well that was fun peeps, thanks if you made it until the end!

#cooking crush #tenprem #playboyy the series #promnont #love for love's sake #love supremacy zone #myungha x yeowoon #pit babe the series #alanjeff #the sign the series #phayatharn

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sarahwroteathing · 5 months

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Giddy

[Steve Rogers x Reader]

Word Count: 2950

Summary: You take Steve on a surprise date.

Request: Steve Rogers, Giddy, Ice Skating

Warnings: None

A/N: I got VERY carried away by your choice of mood word, dear anon. I had a lot of fun with it, and I hope it's just as fun to read. Merry Christmas, my loves!

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a cuter sight than Steve Rogers sitting in your passenger’s seat for a surprise date. He brought two changes of clothes. A tote bag of snacks. A “fancy coffee” that Natasha taught him how to make, presented to you proudly in a giant thermos. Now he was sitting straight up in his seat, alternating between staring out the windows and staring at you with a goofy smile and bright eyes like this was the best day of his life.

“Are you excited?” you asked with a laugh.

“Sorry. No one ever surprises me,” he said, looking faintly embarrassed. “At least not good surprises.”

“Nothing to be sorry about! I’ve just never seen you like this before. It’s really cute.”

From the corner of your eye, you thought you saw him begin to blush, and you wished there was a way to admire it more thoroughly without recklessly endangering you both.

“And you still won’t tell me how long we’ll be driving?” he checked after a moment, earning a narrow-eyed look from you.

“No, Mr. GPS Brain, I’m not telling you how long,”

“Fine,” he said, still smiling, taking a moment to dig through the snack bag. “Here.”

He poked at your bottom lip until you opened your mouth to take the chocolate-covered pretzel he held up for you.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Mmhmm. Wait, you ate breakfast before you picked me up, right? You told me you were going to.”

“Yes, I did.”

You didn’t have to look to know he was eyeing you suspiciously.

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” you laughed, holding out your hand for a pinky promise.

“Just checking… Do you want some apple chips? I got the green ones you like.”

He was holding your pinky hostage now, dropping a kiss onto the back of your hand as he waited for the specific answer he clearly wanted.

“Of course, Passenger Princess Steve.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he said, not sounding particularly bothered as he released your hand to dig for the apple chips.

“You can look it up. It’s not bad.”

He hummed, depositing an apple chip in your mouth before pulling out his phone. You smiled to yourself as he typed.

“I don’t not drive. You don’t let me drive.”

“I let you drive. Just not my car.”

“I’m a fine driver.”

“Steve. I’m not convinced you’ve ever had to pass a driving test. You drive every car like you stole it.”

“Rude,” he said even as he fed you another apple chip.

“I fear for my life and insurance rates.”

“Just break up with me now, I guess.”

You snorted.

“Nah. It’s endearing in its own way. And you’re very good with the motorcycle, at least when I’m on it. Very gentle.”

“Well, yeah. I don’t want you falling off.”

“I appreciate that,” you laughed.

Things continued this way for about three hours as you drove out of the city and the buildings grew more and more sparse, eventually giving way to frost-covered trees and stretches of snow-covered ground. Steve never lost his smile or his excitable energy, choosing songs that only contributed to the mood. The music had you dancing in your seat and singing to him while he laughed and watched you, joining in for a few lines when he got the hang of it.

By the time you turned off the main road, Steve was wiggling in his seat too, craning to see out all of the car windows. After two stretches of tree-lined country roads, you arrived at your destination, a large tract of land with a few large, well-maintained old buildings and wide open spaces.

On one such space there was a decently sized outdoor ice rink, a low wooden wall with evenly spaced high posts fencing it in and rainbow colored twinkle lights upping the charm. Three small sets of wood benches like partial bleachers surrounded it on three sides, with a cheerfully painted food truck taking up the fourth side. The chalkboard menus placed just in front of the window advertised an assortment of hot drinks and pastries.

There weren’t many people here, late morning on a weekday, no more than ten total wandering the scenic walking trails in visual range and braving the ice.

“I’ve never been ice skating before,” Steve said quietly, staring out his window with a boyish grin that set your stomach fluttering. “I never had the money for skates and then…. But that’s what we’re here for, right?”

“It is,” you said, parking in a small dirt lot and shutting off the engine. “If that sounds fun. We can also take some of the trails if you’d rather.”

He turned to you, responding to you with an enthusiastic kiss that had you giggling against his lips.

“Yeah, it sounds fun. I want to try.”

“Fabulous. I bought you some skates. They’re in the trunk.”

Steve’s eyes got wide again, and he scrambled out of the car so quickly he almost strangled himself with the seatbelt. You followed at a calmer pace, watching with a smile as he unboxed your scuffed up old skates and his shiny new ones.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

“Of course,” you said with a shrug. “Let’s go see how they fit.”

You grabbed your coats, scarves, and hats, leaving the skates for Steve to carry as you headed towards the rink.

“You’ve been skating before,” Steve guessed.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been skating since I was a kid.”

He hummed, smiling at you with a mix of excitement and nerves as you approached a free space of the bleachers.

You took it upon yourself to help Steve into his skates, and he let you, teasing at the way you fussed over the fit and the laces. You got yours on much quicker and guided Steve to the gap in the barrier with one arm around his waist and your other held out for him to grab onto.

He wobbled a little as soon as his first foot met the ice, a panicked little grimace flashing across his face as he reached out to you and the wall on his other side.

“It’s alright,” you said, trying to hold in a giggle. “You’ve got it. Hold on until you feel more comfortable.”

You slid onto the ice seamlessly, gliding along beside him and continuing to steady him until he became a little less wobbly.

“This is hard,” he laughed, jerking both his arms when he overcorrected his balance.

“It is,” you agreed, catching his elbow. “You’re walking on ice with knives strapped to your feet. It would be weird if it wasn’t hard.”

“You’re making it look easy,” he said with a flustered smile.

“Well, of course I am. I’ve had years of practice. Plus, I planned this date very intentionally. I couldn’t show off and perform a super cute romantic cliche if I wasn’t good at it.”

“If you kiss me right now, I’m pretty sure I’ll fall,” he warned you.

“Noted,” you laughed. “Not what I meant.”

You skated out in front of him, turning smoothly to skate backwards. Steve raised his eyebrows, and you grinned at him, holding out both your hands to him.

“Give me your hands. I’ve got ya. I won’t let you fall.”

Steve glanced uncertainly at the wall, which he had been maintaining a tight grip on as he shuffled along the edge of the ice. You shifted your stance, bringing your hands closer so he could more quickly shift his grip from the wall to you. With a quick breath, he made the change, only wobbling a little before steadying again.

“There you go!” you said encouragingly, now holding both of his hands in yours, towing him gently forward as you skated smoothly backwards.

“If I’m about to take you down with me, let go, okay?” he said, with a giddy little smile that made you wish you could kiss him. But he was right. It wouldn’t take much to knock him over at this point.

“Not a chance. We’re in this together. Look how damn cute we are right now,” you said with a smile.

Steve relaxed a little, visibly took a moment to appreciate the moment, the two of you skating together with your hands linked, staring into each other's eyes.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” he whispered to you, squeezing your hands when you laughed loud and carefree at the question.

“Obviously. Is it working?”

“Obviously,” he laughed.

The two of you made two laps that way, earning a few smiles from the other skaters. Steve wobbled quite a few times, but you managed to steady him each time, maintaining a slow and patient pace with him.

“You skate better backwards than I do forwards,” he noted as you began your third lap together. “I almost feel bad for slowing you down.”

“Don’t you dare,” you said, squeezing his hands again. “I’m loving every second of this.”

“I kind of want to see what you can do, though. Give you a chance to show off.”

You didn’t want to abandon him on the wall, but the smile he was giving you, somehow already proud before he’d seen you do anything, was impossible to deny.

“Alright, but just for a minute,” you said, slowly guiding his hands to the wall and helping him find a position where he could see the rest of the rink and stabilize himself at the same time.

“I got it,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “I got it. Go make me fall in love with you again.”

“Steve!” you gasped dramatically, making him laugh again. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be charming you!”

“You are,” he promised. “Go do it some more.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head fondly at him as you started moving backwards again, picking up more speed before turning around. You were by no means an expert, but your grandma had enrolled you in several skating classes when you were younger, and you knew plenty of moves that looked extremely impressive to beginners and weren’t all that difficult for you to execute. First, you enjoyed a lap at full speed, enjoying the feeling, and laughing as Steve gave a loud cheer when you passed him. It was the encouragement you needed to start showing off a little more, taking care to only pull out the big guns when you were in spaces of empty ice, safely out of the way of the few other skaters on the ice.

You were halfway through another spin when you heard a brief shout and a heavy thud. When you turned back, Steve was in a bewildered heap on the ice. Biting back a laugh, you weaved quickly through the other skaters, crouching carefully as you slid up to Steve.

“Are you okay?”

“I fell,” he said, his eyes still wide as they found yours.

“I see that,” you said gently. “Are you okay?”

“I’m bad at this,” Steve laughed, shock morphing into utter delight.

You smiled hesitantly, reaching for him.

“Did you hit your head?”

“What? No! I just - ” He laughed again. “I fell over. I didn’t get pushed or hit a rough patch of ice I just… Lost my balance and couldn’t save it. And I fell.”

“I’ve literally never seen anyone this happy about falling on their ass in public,” you said, a giggle bubbling up at the sight of that wide, delighted smile still fixed on his beautiful face.

“I feel so normal,”

“I’d maybe up the angst a little if you want to be normal. Bruised tailbone and all.”

“Okay,” Steve said simply, flopping straight on his back on the ice like a toddler and sending you into a fit of giggles in the process.

“That’s not quite what I -” You could barely breathe to get the sentence out, clasping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to get ahold of yourself.

“That HURT!” Steve called out, still sprawled out on the ice. “I’m so EMBARRASSED!”

“Steve,” you laughed, letting yourself drop into a seated position next to him.

“Don’t LOOK at me!” he continued. “Leave me here to DIE!”

“Incredible,” you said through your giggles. “We found him. The most normal man on the planet.”

Steve was laughing now too, eyes sparkling as he discovered you sprawling on the ice beside him. He wrapped an arm around you, dragging you closer to him and muffling his laughter against your skin, pressing cold little kisses to your face.

“Ready for a break?” you asked as you recovered your breath.

“Sure,” he said. “But you’re either going to have to teach me how to get up or drag me to the exit.”

You snorted.

“Alright, come on. Scoot closer to the wall. That’ll be easier for you.”

After a couple of false starts, Steve managed to regain his footing, grumbling playfully at the ease with which you popped up from the ice once he was standing.

You made it to the gap in the wall successfully, and you pretended not to notice the way Steve very intentionally overbalanced as he shifted from ice to snow, falling into you with overly innocent eyes and the fakest apology you’d ever heard.

“You’re getting too confident already,” you chastised playfully, as he hugged you tightly. “You’re not good enough to start fake falling. You’re going to actually knock yourself over again.”

“Wow. Meanest teacher I’ve ever had,” he said, barely audible from where he had his face nuzzled against your neck.

“I’m a monster,” you agreed, tugging on his coat until he at least started shuffling back towards the bleachers with you. “Let's get our shoes back on for a minute so we can get our hands on some pastries and hot chocolate.”

You changed quickly, tucking your belongings neatly under the bench and heading towards the food truck. Steve caught you up in his arms again as you inspected the chalk sandwich board, standing behind you and reading over your shoulder. You swayed slightly along with the music playing from the large outdoor speaker.

“What do you think?” you asked after a moment.

“Trying to decide between a croissant and a cinnamon roll.”

“Easy. we’ll get both. What about a drink?”

He hummed thoughtfully, pointing at the bottom corner of the board.

“What’s this list for? Do you know?”

“I think it’s extra flavors you can add to your coffee or hot chocolate.”

After another minute of quiet conversation, you stepped up to the window. An older woman with bright silvery hair smiled at you welcomingly.

“Hi! Can we get two croissants and a cinnamon roll, please?”

“Of course! Any drinks?”

“Do you have a favorite?” Steve asked.

“I think hot chocolate is the way to go,” she said with a bright smile. “I like cherry in mine, but you can’t go wrong with mint.”

“One of each?” Steve suggested, tilting his head to see your face better.

You smiled and nodded, pulling your wallet out of your purse as the woman rang up your order and read out the price. Steve’s hand disappeared from around your waist for a moment, re-entering your field of vision with his own wallet in hand.

“Hey!” you said, snatching it out of his hand. “I told you to leave that at home!”

“You sure did,” he said, eyes dancing with amusement as you flailed your arm around to keep his wallet out of reach. “Must have forgotten. Oh well.”

“You did not,” you argued, hurriedly shoving it down your sweater before he could get his hands on it, keeping one arm tucked around your own waist to keep it from falling out the bottom.

“Seriously?”

“I win,” you said proudly, shifting awkwardly to fish your credit card from your own wallet with one hand.

The woman in the food truck grinned back at you as she handed you your receipt.

“Oh! Almost forgot to ask. Do either of you want marshmallows or whipped cream on your hot chocolates?”

“Marshmallows,” Steve answered, poking at your sides until you squirmed, trying to dislodge his wallet from your sweater.

“So many you can’t actually see the liquid,” you added.

“My kind of people,” she said approvingly before moving out of view to prepare your order.

“We got a good grade in hot chocolate,” you whispered to Steve, swatting at his hands. “Quit!”

“Give me back my wallet!”

Your dramatic sigh devolved into laughter as Steve kept tickling your side. You unclenched your arm, letting his wallet fall out of your sweater, knowing he would catch it before it hit the ground.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, elbowing him lightly. “Even though you broke the rules of surprise date day.”

“Won’t happen again,” he promised, wrapping his arms back around you once his wallet was safely stored in his back pocket.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, unconvinced. “I’ll believe it when I see it, pal.”

“How about…” He kissed the wrinkle between your brows until it smoothed beneath his touch. “Tomorrow?”

“What?”

“We could do another surprise date day. I’ll leave my wallet at home.”

You laughed, surprised and incredibly pleased at the eagerness and joy in his eyes.

“You really want to?”

“I really want to. It doesn’t have to be - I mean, we could do this again. Or stay in all day. I don’t care.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head in awe at that soft, excited expression on his face.

“I’ll see what I can do. For my super cute boyfriend,” you said quietly, giggling at the way his cheeks grew a little pinker.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you,” you said. And you absolutely meant it.

*****

A/N: My heart is TOO SOFT HELP! As always, replies, reblogs, and asks are deeply appreciated and provide all the happy writer juice. Love you guys!

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @majesticavenger @buckybarneshairpullingkink @patzammit @pato-el-cerdito

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #marvel imagine

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butchspace · 9 months

Text

I guess I kind of just use this account for PSAs now, and this has been on my mind a lot lately.

I figured out that I have OCD a few years ago, and recently I’ve seen a lot of bad advice around dealing with intrusive thoughts and obsessions.

There’s that post that goes around occasionally about “taking pictures of your oven knobs before you leave” or other things I’ve seen that say to “make a weird face when you lock your door.” THESE ARE COMPULSIONS. If you have/suspect you have OCD or you often struggle with things like that, please do not follow this advice. Instead, try to accept your intrusive thoughts and move on, not argue with them. Over time, they will get easier and easier to deal with. Ruminating, stressing, or arguing with them just makes them worse in the long run.

If you think you might have OCD and want to seek a specialist, the IOCDF’s home page has a lot of resources under the “find help” tab, including a locator.

I’m going to put the rest under a read-more because I’m going to talk a bit more in depth about intrusive thoughts and compulsions. This mostly because good OCD info is so sparse on line, and I’ve spent many hours compulsively researching OCD lmao.

Content warning:

discussion of unreality/doubting one’s own perception

discussion of specific compulsions

I’m not going to push this point too hard or shame anyone who doesn’t want to follow it, because OCD doesn’t really just go away. It’s a constant struggle. I give in to compulsions regularly, even though I am medicated and have seen a specialist to learn actual coping skills. It’s hard to resist sometimes and you don’t always have the energy, the awareness, or the power to ignore them. You do what you have to do to get through your day. The main difference is that the right medication and the right therapist make it easier to stay out of the spiral and to leave a spiral when you’re in one. They still happen. You still kind of have to play everything by ear.

Similarly, it is super fucking hard to get help or even get diagnosed. No regular therapist actually knows what the fuck it looks like, and specialists are few and far between and often don’t take insurance. It’s not fair or easy or necessarily productive to try and do exposure response prevention on yourself. Your “good coping skills” can even turn into an obsession or compulsion, where you’re constantly worried about what is an intrusive thought and what is not, or if you’re responding to them properly.

What I want to do is try to give at least some useful advice to people who are struggling with intrusive thoughts.

The best way to respond to them is not at all. This is especially true with OCD, because the response to them is sort of the root of this disorder. Sometimes, it’s recommended that with depression or anxiety you challenge your thoughts. In OCD, it’s the opposite. Challenging them can so easily lead you down a compulsion spiral. (More about that cycle from a professional.)

Compulsions can be entirely mental, but I’ll use a common behavioral one to look at how engaging with compulsions can go:

You start by taking a picture of the your stove knobs to make sure they’re all off. That works for a few hours or days, but then you start wondering if the knob is ever-so-slightly in the “on” position. You wonder if the picture proves they’re off enough. You forget to take the picture at all, and have to go back in to check anyways. You check your phone a few times before leaving to ensure that the picture is still there. You take several pictures because you can’t tell if you actually took any at all. You start to wonder if you can even trust what you see before your very eyes. What if you’re just imagining that the knobs are set to off? What if you’re just imagining the whole picture to begin with? The picture allows you to engage with your checking compulsion throughout the day, strengthening the connection between the intrusive thought and the urgency to do something about it. That means it gets worse. That means you find new ways to doubt your perception or your memory or whatever.

It can eventually get really bad. It’s hard and awful to try and deal with this on your own, but sometimes you have to.

It’s so shit. It’s so fucking shit how long many people suffer with mental illness without even knowing what’s going on. I didn’t know that my constant, overwhelming guilt over almost everything I’d ever thought or said or done or maybe did and couldn’t remember was the result of a disorder. It was so freeing to realize there was actually something that might help me, and I could learn to just live with myself and my weird ass thoughts that don’t necessarily mean anything at all. It’s so shit that OCD-awareness is so low among therapists. I was never going to get diagnosed until I found an OCD SPECIALIST (bold, italicized, all caps. Don’t trust people on psychology today who just put OCD in the list of what they treat.) and went over the Y-BOCS with her. It’s all so shit that several therapists I came to with textbook examples of OCD either ignored me or didn’t have the tools to help. I told one of them I “didn’t feel connected to reality” and he kind just went 🤷.

I just want everyone who is in that/a similar situation to at least have this information available to them.

If you want to learn more, these blogs from Sheppard Pratt were the best discussion of OCD I found online that really described what I was going through. They’re written by licensed therapists, several (all?) of whom live with OCD. They’re very healing to read if this is something you’re struggling with, or something you think you might be struggling with, and great in general if you want to learn more about OCD.

Whatever’s going on, OCD or not, have some grace with yourself. Take a few minutes today and do something kind for yourself, even just think one nice thing about yourself. You’re doing the best you can.

#actually ocd #ocd #ocd awareness #do with this what you will but I stresses me the hell out when I see people #uncritically reblog posts suggesting new compulsions to people #because they worked on me and made my ocd worse #im sure a lot of those suggestions came from others with ocd so I’m not trying to come after anyone about this #I just feel like I don’t see a lot of discussion about this stuff in general and even in the notes on those posts

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blueroan-equestrian · 1 year

Text

Yawne

Aged up and arranged marriage and smut

Aonung

We had to flee our home to another clan for safety…. But they had a condition to our sanctuary… I had to be betrothed to their eldest son. Aonung… he looked at us with what could only be disgust. I didn’t want to be promised to someone who hated my guts so much. They gave us time to discuss and I quietly listened to my parents talk or rather argue it through. Eventually they turned to me, “(y/n) … I know we’re asking a lot and you are of age so this really is your decision but we need to find sanctuary… so will you accept their terms?” My father asked.

I hung my head but nodded.

…

Tonowari and Ronal presented their own son, Aonung. Ronal placed a hand on Aonung’s shoulder and says, “Good then it’s decided, (y/n) and Aonung will create tsaheylu tonight in front of Eywa. We wouldn’t want for the same stunt her parents pulled to happen again.”

Aonung growled but didn’t dare cross his mother. They moved my family into an empty pod but I had to move into Aonung’s pod. I could see his disgust when he looked at me. He was watching me as I moved my hammock in and set it up on my own. When I had finished and he came to take my hand and examined it, “at least you don’t have demon hands. I don’t want my kids looking like they have demon blood in them.”

I yanked my hand back, “Yeah, well they will have demon blood in them. I still have it in me.”

He shrugged, “that’s why I said looking like. Now let’s go get this over with.” With my arm still in his hand he pulled me forward and led me to the water where Eywa could be heard. He knelt down at the ledge where the water sat at his upper waist now. He tugged off his loin cloth and gestured for me to do the same. I do reluctantly kneeling in front of him. He offers me his queue and I held mine to his allowing tsaheylu to be made. He reached forward and pulled me up onto his lap. He had me hovering over his most intimate part and held me there. His fingers wiggled on my hips, “Ready?”

I looked down at his ocean blue eyes, that had a hardness to them, “yes… I guess…”

He nodded and pulled me down onto his length. His breath hitched and his emotions were everywhere. Disgust was no longer in him I could feel through the bond, just worry, a little loneliness, confusion, and pleasure. I could feel his cock inside me twitching. He placed a hand on my cheek in a strange gentleness to it, “I grew up knowing my mate would be chosen for me but I never thought it was going to be this awkward.”

“We just met. You probably at least knew the other possible mates… We just met and now you are inside of me.”

He chuckled, “You’re right… uh… can I…. Um… can I move?”

I nodded before leaning forward to lay down my head onto his shoulder. He wrapped his hands under my bottom and began pumping himself into me. His head leaned forward as he focused on the pleasure he was experiencing. His fingers dug into the flesh of my thighs. His pleasure through the connection started to rally me up. I started to whimper. My own whimper dragged out a growl from him. I gasped as he bit down on my collar bone and released inside me. I felt a little bit of relief as I knew I wasn’t ovulating. I wasn’t ready for a baby let alone one with him. I know I will have to bear him a child at some point because he’s the future clan leader but hopefully we will find a rhythm together that will make me want a child with him.

We head back home and simply get into our separate bed arrangements.

…

Aonung and his sister, Tsireya, were put in charge in helping us adjust. Hunting in the water was difficult. Unlike my siblings and parents I didn’t have to worry about it like they did. Aonung was expected to insure I was provided for so if I wasn’t able to hold my breath long enough to hunt, he was expected to provide. Luckily for me his mother ended up working with me on my role beside him and as a healer. I still had to learn to dive into the depths for certain ingredients but it was better than training with Aonung. I had to skip a training fishing trip with Aonung, Tsireya and my siblings because I was working with Ronal on healing the sick. It was the first time I had someone so young so close to death. Sure grandma back home had trained me to heal but never had I experienced someone somebody so young this sick. I just went home and crawled into my hammock and just went to sleep too drained for anything else.

When Aonung stepped into the pod, he scoffed, “Sleeping? You skipped training to…” He stopped when he realized my cheeks were stained with tears. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

When I simply turned away from him he sighed and climbed into the hammock with me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to his chest. “Alright, it’s okay. I brought back enough for the both of us… I will prepare it in a few minutes. You can tell me about it if you want or we can simply lay here and eat fish.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw his uncharacteristicly soft expression. I simply nodded and he got up and prepared the fish before he handed me one and laid down beside me and just ate quietly with me. This was the most intimate moment we’ve had together. I turned to snuggle into his side, and he wrapped an arm around me, “feeling any better?” He asked tentatively.

I nodded, “yes, thank you… I… I’m sorry I missed practice… and didn’t help with the hunt…”

He tilted his head so that his lips pressed against my temple, “Don’t worry about it we can work on your breath work later… I can take you tomorrow morning before you have to go with my mother. Don’t worry about it.”

“I have never had someone so young… so close to death before…” I whispered into his chest.

He pressed his nose into my hair, “That’s hard… I’m sorry it was a rough day for you… but mother is very gifted and from what I heard about you from her, so are you. Eywa will take care of the rest.”

I take a moment to think about his words before speaking, “why are you being so kind to me right now?”

He shifted his head so his cheek would rest on my head now, “Because you are my mate… and I need to do better. You will be the mother of my children someday… that’s something I should honor…. So I am going to try more to be a worthy mate.”

I hummed in acknowledgment, “I appreciate that… what do you need from me so I can be the same for you?”

“Well… um… I… want… I need you to be with me in front of the clan.”

“How?”

“When the clan has the biweekly super together, sit with me instead of your family. I know they are important too but in front of the clan, I need you by my side. If it helps we can have some family dinners with them once a week… how can I be a better mate for you?”

“This right here… the affection, small intimate moments like this…” I say allowing my arm to drape around him.

“I can do that… can you?”

I nodded, “I can…”

“Then can we move onto my bed? This hammock makes me uncomfortable.”

I chuckled, “alright.”

We switched to his bed which was surprisingly comfortable. It was wide and soft. He pulled me back into his arms.

…

We grew significantly closer until one day he went and got into a fight with my brothers. Kiri told me about it so I charged down to the beach where I knew he would still be with his friends. “Aonung!” I shouted and he and his friends flinched looking my way. “Fighting with my brothers? Are you serious? Do you want to explain yourself?” I growled as I got into his face.

He stumbled back, “I… we were just having some fun, they over reacted!” I glared and he backed up, “I was insensitive too …. Sorry yawne (love).”

I stared him down before growling, “I am not the one you should be apologizing to.”

He nodded, “Yes ma Yawne… I’ll make it right… but first I have to go get him…”

I looked at him confused, “What do you mean go get him?”

Ao’nung rubbed the back of his neck, “well, actually… Lo’ak actually already came to apologize and… I took him out fishing… and l left him out near the reef…”

It took a minute but when the realization came over me I smacked him hard, “What the fuck is wrong with you! If he so much as has a single scratch on him I swear to Eywa!!!”

“I know… I will be back…” he called for his ilu and disappeared I gave his friends a glare that made them all shrink back before I stormed away to my family’s pod. Mom was on my side of course but dad was apprehensive but I was angry with him too for putting Lo’ak into such a position and putting all the blame on him.

When Aonung returned with Lo’ak I tackled Lo’ak in a hug and ignored Aonung. He had his head hung, “Yawne … please… I am so sorry…”

“Tsssaaaa! Get out! Get out! I don’t want to see you!” I snarled.

He only gave me a solemn nod before walking off.

Mom gave dad a warning glare before she gave me a hug and whispered, “You can stay with us as long as you need. I am here for you…”

A week goes by and Ao’nung has given me space. He didn’t even try to push for me to sit with him during clan dinner. While I was helping clean up, Aonung finally came to approach me. “My Yawne?… may I have a moment?”

I paused, “You may help me clean this up and then I will consider your request.”

Once cleaned up I gestured for him to follow me down the beach. Once away I plopped down and gestured for him to do the same. I decided to take the lead and broke the silence, “What you did was hurtful and disrespectful and you could have cost me my brother.”

“You’re right, and I am sorry for what I did. I have been doing everything I could think of to make it up to both of your brothers but especially Lo’ak. I have been spending extra time to help them with their free diving… I’ve made sure that you have been fed every day, as well as your family. I know that isn’t going to fix anything but I hope it’s a start… please come home.”

“I… I understand that you are sorry but I need you to swear to me that you won’t be fighting with my brothers. You can’t be fighting with my brothers and especially not sending them out alone.”

He nodded, “of course, never again. Will you come home?”

“Yes, I will come back.” I sighed. “But… can I ask you something?”

He turned to look at me, “Of course Yawne, anything you want.”

“Why are you fighting so hard to make it right? To get me back… you didn’t even choose me… you could just push us out and start over again…”

“Because you are my mate. We are mated before Eywa whether or not I’ve chosen it. We are tied together and that means something to me. I want you to know that I respect you and that means earning your trust back… I mean I call you Yawne for a reason.”

I looked at him confused, “You can’t possibly love me… I remember the disgust that you had for me even when we were mating… You are making the most out this situation… right?”

He leaned in and brushed his lips against my cheeks, “At first maybe… but now I feel empty when you aren’t around.”

I turned my head so that our lips were only a breath away, “Are you saying what I think that you are saying?”

“Nga yawne lu oer… I see you Ma (y/n) …”

“I see you Aonung.” And for the first time he actually kissed me.

I gasped but reciprocated the kiss and as the kiss progressed, the more heated it became. He shoved me down and began to strip us down. He hovered over me kissing me, “I want to touch you.”

“Then touch me! Please touch me!” I cried out as growled and peppered kisses down my body to my most intimate place. He flattened his tongue between my folds licking and then twirling his tongue. I gasped and reached for his hair. “Aonung! Oh Eywa! That feels so good. Please Aonung!”

He growled triumphantly, “That’s it baby, get into.” He reached up and inserted a finger into me. My back arches as his finger curled inside me. I whimpered as he added another finger. My high was quickly approaching and my hips were squirming so he had to pinned me down. His tongue swirled around my sensitive bud until I screamed out as I cummed onto his tongue.

I was breathing heavily as he climbed up my body kissing up my body like he did when he made his way down. “Ma (y/n), can I create tsaheylu?”

I nodded and he retrieved our braids and joined our queues. He hummed and I am flooded with an unexpected amount of warmth coming from him. “Aonung! What is that?”

He chuckled, “love… affection… and need. Baby… can I?”

I bit my lip and nodded. He kissed me gently as he lined up with me and slowly pushed into. He let out a loud moan and I did too. “Aonung!”

“Mmm Yawne! You feel so good.” He moaned as he began to pump into me. He pulled my legs up to wrap around his waist. I pulled him in with my legs. He growled and bit at my shoulder. He rutted into me faster and faster as his fingers dug into my hips. He started edging me before slowing down teasing me, “Aonung!” I whined, “Enough with the teasing!”

Aonung chuckled as lifted up a hand to smooth back my hair, “I got you sweet girl. Don’t worry, I will get you there. Just be patient.” When his hips began to stutter I knew he was close. My own hips were struggling to keep up. He pulled away from my shoulder to look into my hooded eyes as I released pulling him with me shooting his seed into me.

He collapsed on top of me and simply breathed as I made circles onto his skin with my fingers. “Well that was something else.” I hummed.

Aonung chuckled resting his head on my shoulder, “it was was… let’s get cleaned up and go home.”

… part two

#aonung x reader #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n #aonung #aonung smut #avatar smut #avatar

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